Nightmares
by beautifulugly
Summary: In the year following the defeat of the Dark Lord, Hermione finds herself at tentative peace with Draco, and after a shared night in the cold, both she and the former Death Eater find themselves much closer than intended. Struggling to deal with the new change as her nightmares continuously remind her of the past, she must come to terms with the old and the new. Rated T for swears.


**I really don't know Harry Potter that well, but I've always liked the idea of this ship, and the evolution of Draco from bully to protector. It's a pretty straightforward plot line, so I hope it's all to you guys' liking.**

**For all of you hardcore Potter freaks, please ****_KINDLY AND GENEROUSLY _****alert me of any severe inaccuracies or anything outrageously out of character. No, I don't want to read the books, but I would like your advice for any future Dramione stories I may write. Please and thank you.**

**Disclaimer: If it wasn't clear already, I do not own Harry Potter or any of these characters. This is my first Harry Potter piece, so please, read, enjoy, and review!**

* * *

_"Malfoy... What are you doing?_

Somewhere in her consciousness, Hermione knew she was dreaming. She was fully aware, fully cognizant of the fact that she was laying in her Head dormitory, a room away from a certain Slytherin boy. Yet, even knowing it was all a dream didn't curb any of the shock that arose in her as her Dream Draco swayed closer to her. They were in a dark room, maybe an old library, and Draco had just locked the door.

_"M-Malfoy... What... What are you doing?" Hermione asked, taking a step back. Said step was futile, as she felt her backside connect with a desk._

_He was silent, answering her question with a slow grin as he withdrew his hands from his pockets. He continued to saunter closer, taking his sweet time. She could have stepped away from the desk, could have easily made her escape. She knew that. Dream Draco knew that. And yet she didn't move a muscle._

_He continued to grin at her, calmly, as she searched the room for anywhere else to look. "Draco?" she said shakily, staring at a blank space off to her left._

_His voice was in her ear, his hand was on her waist. How had he moved that fast?_

_"Yes, Hermione?"_

_His voice was like honey, dropping from his perfectly sculpted lips to slip down her neck and send shivers across her dream-skin._

_"D-Draco... You... You said my name." she gasped, as she felt his lips nearing her ear. His free hand slid through her hair, then cupped her chin._

_"Do you like that?" The whisper tickled her ear lobe, followed by his nipping teeth that caused her to jerk and grasp his shoulders._

_"Yes." she answered, closing her eyes tight. All she became aware of was the darkness, the bumps on her skin as his lips tickled her._

_A soft nip at her ear. "Hermione."_

_A brush of his tongue on her neck. "Hermione."_

_A kiss against her cheek. "Hermione Granger."_

_A tongue across her bottom lip..._

* * *

"Granger! Would you wake up?"

Hermione was suddenly sitting up in bed, gasping for breath. She blinked hard, eyes searching in the pitch black for the source of the voice.

"Granger, dammit! Wake UP."

Of course.

Nearly falling out of bed, Hermione stumbled toward the door of her Head Girl master bedroom, yanking the cord of her table lamp as she passed, and yanked her door open.

"_WHAT?!_" she demanded loudly, one eye shut tight as she attempted to right herself.

It was a long moment before she realized she'd never gotten an answer. Through the darkness, she registered the look of shock on the Slytherin's face, his cheeks tinged pink, eyes fixed on something below her face.

That's when she remembered her bed clothes.

A pair of dark green and black plaid flannel pants, baggy and riding scandalously low on her sparse hips. They'd been a gag-gift from Ron, a gift she'd unwrapped, raged about, and stuffed into her back drawers. Her tight black tank top rode up far too high and far too low, and she knew her hair must have been a mess in its high pony tail. Hardly the sort of ensemble Head Girl should be caught in.

And there was Draco... Draco Malfoy, barefoot, shirtless, muscular, and shivering. His lush comforter was wrapped about his t shoulders, the deep gun metal contrasting with the warm tones cast across his skin from her lamp. Did he even OWN a color? Besides green at least.

Dodging his gaze, Hermione shot behind the door of her room, only allowing him to see her face. "Malfoy, what the bloody hell do you want? It's two in the morning, it's FREEZING, and I want to sleep!"

Hermione was hardly one to be so rude, but this was Malfoy, and it WAS two in the morning. This was the boy with the face she'd been taught to hate, a fact she'd had to remind herself of over and over again.

"That's it, Granger! It's freezing! The heat's died again!" he hissed, leaning further into her room.

Hermione's eyes widened, and she closed the space allowed by the ajar door.

"It's fine in here!" she exclaimed, back against the door as her cheeks flamed as she recalled the short glimpse of his shirtless frame, pale skin almost glowing in the darkness.

She shut her eyes.

"Maybe if you put on a damn shirt!"

He pressed against the door, managing to get his head inside the room. She pressed back harder, but he was stronger.

"Come on, Granger! Your room is the only place in this wretched house with working heat! Let me sleep here tonight!" he ordered, rather than begged.

"Draco Malfoy, I am NOT nor will I EVER share a room with you! Cast a spell or something!"

"You know that any magic is forbidden after 11 am in the Head Houses."

"Since when do you care?"

"It'll only be one night. Come on, Hermione."

Hermione shot away from the door, darting out of the way as Draco stumbled inside over his comforter.

He cringed, looking up at her in confusion. "What?" he demanded as she gaped at him.

"You... You called me Hermione." she breathed, her large eyes stuck on his form, shirtless, now standing well inside of her private suite.

He shook his head, dismissing her quickly. "That's your name, you twit." he insisted, although something in his eyes told her he knew exactly why she reacted the way she did.

"Not to you." was all she could think to say, even as she wished to throw herself at him and beg him to say her name over and over again.

Malfoy sighed, his shoulders losing that tension that could easily be mistaken as well-taught posture. He pressed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, shaking out his impossibly blonde hair. "Gran-... Her-... Ugh, what do you want me to say?" he threw his hands out, welcoming whatever she wished to throw at him, be it insult or acceptance.

She observed him, eyes narrowed. This Draco was nothing like the Draco in her dream. If this were Harry or Ron that had rushed into her room after such a steamy dream, she would have been a fumbling mess. However, she only felt a strange resentment toward the Draco in her dream, taunting her with a Draco entirely different than the one she knew. Making her wish for something she would never have.

This Draco was neither charming nor caring. He was only fire and ice. Something that either burned or froze. There was no warmth.

"What do you really think will happen, Granger?" Malfoy asked sarcastically.

"You'll kill me in my sleep." she shot back immediately.

"What if I said please?" he finally asked, shoulders finally releasing that last bit of tension.

"You would beg to stay in here? Really?" she asked, trying to sound sarcastic, but actually very surprised. She didn't think Malfoy knew the meaning of please.

"Purebloods don't beg. I'm merely making an offer to humor you." he defended himself, crossing his arms. Comforter forgotten, Hermione now received the full effect of a shirtless, relaxed Draco standing before her, all toned muscle and flawless skin.

She mimicked his expression and stance, trying to give off the same no nonsense vibe that he was trying so hard to maintain.

"I didn't even think you learned how to say please? I know all of those Slytherin girls wallowing at your feet didn't teach you." she jabbed, referring to the spectacle she'd seen at lunch time with a very desperate Pansy Parkinson practically having a tantrum over his refusal to kiss her in the middle of the hall, yet again.

Draco cringed a little, then went on the offensive. "Like you wouldn't have been begging all the same if it were your Golden Boy?"

The insult didn't even touch Hermione, as she reminded him of his current predicament. "I would watch your tone, Mr. Malfoy. I'm not the one half dressed looking for a place to stay."

"I beg to differ on that first part." he muttered, looking pointedly at her scarcely covered torso.

Hermione pursed her lips, turning toward her bed to hide the flush of her cheeks. "Well, I wasn't expecting company." she commented, grabbing a pillow from the head of the bed and tossing it at his face. She pointed to the couch. "It doesn't pull out, but it's pretty comfortable. There are more blankets in that trunk."

He looked at her for a moment, surprised. "That... That's it?"

Untying her bushy curls from their binding to braid them. Hermione made her way about the room, hitting the light and sitting on the bed to finish her braid. "Unlike you I don't enjoy watching others grovel."

She didn't give him time to answer, moving beneath the covers, she gave the still-standing Draco a tight smile, and pulled the blankets over her head.

"Hope you don't snore." she said cheerily before the room went quiet.

Hermione's eyes remained wide open, staring into the dark, listening. What would he do? Was he just standing there still?

She could feel his eyes on her back, watching her for any signs that she had gone absolutely mad. She couldn't blame him. Not only had she allowed her childhood enemy and longtime foe to sleep within a ten foot radius of her, but she had passed up an opportunity to make him squirm, to do something to humiliate him. Was there something wrong with her? Had her dreams of him finally started to spill over into their lives?

He was still standing there.

"Thank you, Hermione." she heard his whisper in the darkness, then the shuffling of blankets and the creaking of the couch cushions.

She sighed, but didn't dare speak.

_You're welcome, Draco._

* * *

_Falling. Falling hard, the sound of hot air and maniacal laughter rushing through her ears, banging on her brain._

_STUPID MUDBLOOD_

_NO GOOD DIRTY SLAG_

_STUPID_

_LONELY_

_UNLOVED_

_FORGOTTEN_

_STUPIDSTUPIDSTUPID_

_Who? Whose voice were those? Ron?_

_"ANNOYING FREAK!"_

_Harry? Why was Harry saying those things to her?_

_"LOSER HAG. UNLOVED SCUM."_

_Fire. And creatures, carving words into her skin, making her bleed, making her scream, falling, falling, falling..._

_Paralyzed._

_Screaming._

_Alone._

_Forgotten._

_Mudblood._

**_Mudblood._**

**_MUDBLOOD._**

* * *

Hermione woke up screaming.

"Granger? Granger!" Draco's voice cut across the room laced with panic. He sat up, watching her in the scarce light as she seemed to be brushing something off of her skin.

"No!" she screamed still, shooting off of her bed and into the door of her bathroom.

"Hermione!" running to her as she tried in vain to turn the handle of the door, trying to escape whatever horror had plagued her in her dreams.

"Granger." he said again, gripping her arms, "Hermione, it's not real. It isn't real. You're awake." he held onto her as she slid against the door, down to the floor, her eyes wide and unblinking. Kneeling before her, Draco took her face in his hands, thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks. "It isn't real."

"It... It isn't real."

Her voice was gravelly, tight, as her blank eyes finally begin to register his face. She sat up immediately, licking her dry lips. Draco kept his hands on her cheeks, letting one slide down to her jaw.

"It's not real." she sighed, removing her hands from her face with care. The contact was not long, but he was able to make not of her clammy skin.

Closing her eyes a moment, Hermione leaned her head back and tried to breathe through the panic, through the lasting tendrils of fear that clung to her gut and clogged her lungs. She felt the sweat begin to dry, felt her heart rate return to normal. And she felt Draco's presence still in front of her, steady, calm, concerned but not flustered. She wanted to feel embarrassed, ashamed or something. After all, she had just had a massive psychotic episode in the middle of the night, surely looking like an absolute mess. But when she opened her eyes, and saw the way he was looking at her through the dark, full of tired understanding and _empathy_ all she could do was sigh.

"Thanks." she mumbled lamely, a dry chuckle escaping her chest. _Laugh or cry,_ she sighed internally.

He didn't return the laugh though. He was just... Looking at her.

"That wasn't your first... Episode. You have your room charmed for silence." he said slowly, shifting to sit cross-legged opposite her.

Staring, momentarily lost for an answer, she could only nod.

Looking down at his hands, a nervous gesture that caught Hermione's attention, Draco spoke slowly. "I... I didn't think anyone still had the nightmares."

Hermione blinked, her brows knitting together with both anger and confusion. "It's only been a year, Malfoy. We all have them-"

"No, no." he rushed, meeting her eyes with a quiet desperation that broke her heart. "I mean... Those nightmares. The ones that follow you into the real world, and you wake up cold and screaming and blind. I thought I was the only one."

Now it was Hermione's turn to bite her lip. Was he playing her? Trying to embarrass her? She liked to think that at another less ungodly hour, and with more light, she would been able to read him much better. But here, in the quiet of her locked room, the only light Bering the moonlight filtering in from the window above her bed, she only saw an open face, nervous hands, and those silver eyes. Sad. Broken.

What was she doing? Sitting here so carelessly in the dark, watching Draco Malfoy bare his soul to her? Draco MALFOY. The boy that had tormented her for YEARS. He had almost killed everything she held dear. Why the hell was she letting him sit here and wallow while she should have been kicking him while he was down.

For the first time since he'd entered her quarters, her eyes traveled away from his face and chest to the mark on his forearm. A year ago, she had had dark thoughts of dragging a knife across the mark and removing it from existence. Now, however, she found that it did not bother her. The bitter taste in her mouth she found was just the taste of sleep. Now it was just a mark. It was just a mark with a past. _A stain._

And he was just a boy. A boy with a past. A man.

"I did, too." she replied hoarsely.

Silently, he moved, scooting around to sit beside her against the door. Without words or even meeting each other's eyes, they arranged themselves comfortably, Hermione finding his chest felt pleasantly warm against her cheek, Draco quite enjoying the way her hair tickled his skin and how well her delicate hand fit in his. And they lay like that, in each other's space, quiet, the last thing Hermione feeling before she slept being his lips brushing her forehead.

Hermione awoke on an inhale that Saturday morning, her body pleasantly heavy, her sheets smelling like clean boy.

At first, she was afraid to move, making sure to take inventory of everything before she even dared disturb the strong arm around her waist.

Clothes? Check. Blankets? She was under them, he appeared to be on top. No pain. No sense of danger. Everything was in perfect order, if you didn't count the Slytherin boy cuddling her in his sleep.

She didn't remember moving from the door, being tucked into bed, but it was clear he'd been gentle. When she shifted, prompting his arms to tighten on her waist, she glimpsed his gray comforter, observing the way he was sprawled atop her duvet but still pressed close. Despite herself, she smiled.

Who knew Draco Malfoy was a gentleman?

Again, she shifted. Maybe breakfast had been delivered? But her movement was only rewarded with a deep growl from beside her.

"Would you stop bloody moving? It's barely dawn." he said, feigning anger as she could feel his smile against her neck.

"Malfoy, it's past ten! I'm hungry!" she laughed, squirming against his hold.

"Granger, so help me Merlin, if you keep moving I will be forced to either tickle the shit out of you or handcuff you to the bed." he mumbled, pulling her deeper into their blankets and moving so it was nearly half his torso and not just his arm pinning her down.

Blushing at the latter, she prodded his side crossly, making him squirm.

_"Hermiiiiiooonneeeeeeeeeeeeeee."_

_"Malfooooooooooooooooooy." _she mimicked, continuing to poke his ribs.

"Granger, do not make me beg." he pleaded, "Twenty more minutes and we will fetch breakfast. Better yet, give me another hour and we'll just have a house elf bring it to us."

"I thought Purebloods didn't beg?" she challenged.

"They also don't cuddle with muggle-born know it alls with mounds of hair and annoying cats!

"Hey! What has Crookshanks done to you?" she demanded, silently noting his sudden avoidance of the other M word he tended to throw her way daily.

"Nothing if you don't count the countless scratched on my legs."

"Well maybe if you quit kicking him while you thought I wasn't looking he would warm up to you!"

"Fine, Merlin! Tell you what, you stay still for another twenty minutes and I stop kicking that ball of mange you call a cat."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"FINE!" Hermione cried, falling limp against the pillows as he pulled her more firmly against him.

Then they were silent.

"Oh my gods."

The words were blank and expressionless, sending the both of them speeding to opposite ends of the room, rambling and stuttering and tripping over blankets. Draco finally rested on the floor in a tangle of gray duvet, while Hermione clutched a pillow to her chest and nearly collapsed against the bathroom door.

"I didn't... I-"

"It's not like we... We didn't-"

"And no one-"

"Just the two of us."

More silence, filling the entire space between them, chilling the still warm sheets.

"This didn't happen." she told him, looking to the bed and gesturing between the two of them.

Draco nodded eagerly as he stood. Their eyes locked, freezing both of them where they stood. What they were agreeing DIDN'T happen here, neither of them knew. There had been nothing inappropriate going on, nothing shameful, yet both of them were breathless and red faced, embarrassed. For what? Laughing with each other? Talking? Touching?

But he had been right. Purebloods most certainly DID NOT cuddle with muggle-borns. They didn't do ANYTHING with muggle-borns. They didn't comfort their nightmares or threaten to tickle them. They didn't tuck them into bed and kiss their foreheads.

So what the hell was so embarrassing for Hermione? He was the one that was acting out of character! She had nothing to be ashamed of!

Except that she now felt weak.

"I'm sorry-"

"I don't need your sympathy." she said suddenly, shattering his apology on impact. "You don't have to take anything back. I understand." The look on his face at her words nearly broke her into pieces, but it this is how she had to restore order, save her pride, so be it.

"Hermione-"

"Malfoy," she said pointedly, icily, knowing exactly where the name put them. Square one. Where they belonged. "What happened here can't be told to your friends. I'm going to shower. Enjoy your breakfast."

"Hermione, don't do this. We don't have to-"

"Yes we do." she sighed, pulling open the bathroom door and disappearing behind it. Closing it. Locking it. Shutting him out.

Leaning on the door, she listened, feeling like the walls of her large bathroom could collapse around her any moment.

He slammed the door when he left.

Limbs dense and unyielding, Hermione readied herself for her shower. Her clothes smelled of him, her hair smelled of him.

Tossing her pajamas into the waste bin, she stepped into the shower and washed. One. Two. Three times.

* * *

She would have skipped breakfast, SHOULD have skipped breakfast, if her body hadn't been completely ignoring her pleas for peace and screaming for food.

The hall was fairly empty now, a few students milling about for early lunches and even a few that were still eating eggs and toast.

Head down, she made a bee line for her usual table, completely empty, hoping to just grab an apple or slice of toast and make a run to the library or even out on the grounds.

"'Mione!" Ginny called, followed by Harry, Ron, and Luna, all chatting and smiling at her as they approached. As much as Hermione wanted to be alone then, she did have to admit it was very nice to see the red and gold stripes she knew so well. Her... _Their _Head suites were painfully neutral, comprised mainly of gray and tan, arguable silver and gold, shades.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" Harry asked, releasing Ginny's hand to hug her warmly. Ginny did the same, while Ron and Luna kept a very friendly distance.

Looking confused at her friends, Hermione shook her head, "What do you mean?"

"We ran into Draco half an hour ago at brunch and he had said you'd been sick this morning. Told us not to come looking for you, you were so sick." Ginny was saying, but Hermione had really stopped listening after _Draco._

They referred to him as _Draco _now?

"Dra- Malfoy talked to you? About me?" she asked, unable to hide her surprise.

Harry chuckled softly, shrugging, "We were about as surprised as you seem now. He was actually rather... Amicable."

Ginny grinned in agreement, adding, "He even called me _Ginevra. _Not Weaselette."

That was when Luna spoke up from her quiet conversation with Ron, speaking slowly, "It was quite strange, but a _nice _strange." To that, Ron gave a reasonably nod, and Hermione was at a complete loss. As Ron and Luna both left to meet Neville or _someone, _Hermione wasn't listening, she looked frantically between her two friends,

All of her friends, even _Ron_, were... _Accepting _Draco. Well, not _accepting_, but this was the first mention of his name that did not bring sneers of disgust or tasteless jokes. They were... _Smiling._

" 'Mi, are you okay? You look pale. Are you feeling sick again?" Ginny took Hermione by the arm, kissing Harry's cheek gently as she led them away to an empty table.

As soon as they were sitting, Ginny plopped an apple into Hermione's hand and sat beside her. "Eat. And talk. I know you weren't sick, Hermione." she said forcibly, then softer, in a more understanding tone, "What's going on with you and Draco?"

Hermione's mouth went dry, apple stinging her throat as she desperately shook her head. "_Nothing."_

Ginny only arched an eye brow.

Hermione could have screamed. Damn him! Damn him for speaking to her friends, for being unnaturally kind to them. Damn him for comforting her last night. Damn him for holding her, being a gentleman, and making her wish for things she would not dare say aloud. Damn him to the last ring of hell he could find.

"I don't _know _what's going on, Ginny! I don't understand a thing about him anymore. Not that ever did _before. _It's just all... _Different. _And then last night, _Merlin_, why did I let him in my room?" she cried quietly, banging her fist on the table in frustration before putting herself in check. People would stare. Hermione Granger didn't yell. She didn't have melt downs over some _guy_. Especially not the bigoted Slytherin Prince and ex-fucking=death eater Draco Malfoy.

"Whoa, hold on. What happened in your room last night?" Ginny's eyes were wide, shocked.

"What? _Nothing! _Nothing like that. The heat in our suite died again, and my room was the only one with heat. He slept on my couch... But..." She swallowed slowly, closing her eyes tight against the onslaught of images that assaulted her in her dreams and beyond. "Ginny?"

"Yes?"

She swallowed again. It was getting harder. "Do you... still have nightmares?"

Her reaction was much like Hermione's had been the night before, confused and even a little hurt. "Yes, of course. It was only last year."

Hermione pushed her curls back from her face, shaking her head. "No, _n__o._ I mean... _Nightmares. _They start in your head and you wake up screaming, and you can still _feel it... _Like it's real, and you just. Keep. Screaming."

"Hermione, you're scaring me-"

"Do you still _have them, _Ginny? And Harry? I know you would know." her voice cracked, but she had to stay strong. She had to know that she wasn't the only one... Or one of the only ones.

Ginny paused, conflicted, unsure of what to say. "No." she finally said, looking down at the table. Then, more firmly, "Not in a very long time."

Hermione's heart dropped into her stomach, could practically hear the sound of a door slamming in her face. The door to her suite, a room away from where she had been, from where she had closed him out. Regret rushed at her, but she fought it, tooth and nail. He was _still _a Malfoy. Just because he _said _he had nightmares like she did, just because he looked at her with openly wounded eyes, did _not _mean that she had to trust him. Trust _herself _with him. _  
_

"Hermione, if... If you and Draco... No one would stand between you two, if you..." Ginny babbled uncomfortably. _Gulping FUCKING gargoyles. She honestly thought... _This was impossible. Her best friend, pushing her to care for someone that had _tortured them. _

"Yes, Ginny, I am just desperate to be Draco Malfoy's little _Mudblood_ _girlfriend!" _She hissed with bitter humor, fighting back angry tears.

"That's not-"

Pulling up the sleeves of her sweater and thrusting her left arm forward, Hermione pointed to the dark scars there, hardly a year and a half old. they were marred, but the message was still clear. _Mudblood. _He had treated her like a patient, a _disease_, as had his entire family, a disease Bellatrix had made sure she could never recover from. One night didn't change them. Just because his marks were no longer relevant did not mean hers could also be forgotten. She was not _stained. _She was scarred.

"It's what I _am_, Ginny. And _they _made sure I would never forget. We may have won, but I am reminded every night, _screaming_, that I will never be truly free from it."

It was then that Draco came walking into the hall, alone, eyes scanning for her. When they rested on her and Ginny, he appeared relieved, and began to walk toward her. However, she stood, and he stopped. She watched, angry tears hot in her eyes as his eyes flickered down to her bared arm. His expression darkened, his Adam's apple working as he swallowed.

"You." She said, ignoring Ginny's cries as she left the table, wand drawn. "You!" She was near growling now, foaming at the mouth, approaching him in a flurry of bouncing curls.

"Hermione!" It was Harry this time, followed by a breathless Ron.

"Granger, what-"

"What do you see in your nightmares?" she demanded through clenched teeth, wand pressing into his chin. There was a great deal of rustling and panicked whispers as the few students in the hall scrambled outside. Draco's hands clenched in panic, his neck snapping back to avoid the tip of her wand as she practically pinned him to the grand entrance doors. His eyes were filled with uncomprehending fear, and she repeated her question. "What do yousee in your nightmares?"

"Hermione, stop!" Behind her, she heard Harry and Ron approaching, but Ginny held them back, and for a moment, she was transported to nearly four years prior, when the same boy had been at the end of her wand.

_This is not the same boy. _

"Please, Granger... We can talk this out somewhere else-"

"No." she said evenly, her anger simmering into determination. No, this was not the same boy, who had once been a perfect specimen of wizardry and now claimed to be as broken as she. Sure he was stained, but she knew him to have his own scars, very deep. "I want you to tell me. What do you see in your nightmares?"

"I see you." he said finally, loudly, on a desperate cry. Her wand faltered for a moment, but she regained her balance as he continued. "I see you, and Bellatrix... And you're bleeding _everywhere," _he was nearly whimpering now, closing his eyes against the images that assaulted him, just as she had when recalling her own dreams. "And she's laughing, and she puts her knife in my hand and tells me to start carving... And every time I say no, she kicks you or cuts you... And I wake up screaming. I always wake up screaming. And then you're screaming and I'm screaming and everything hurts. Because even then, when I was sitting beside my father with a fresh dark mark stinging in my arm and you were being mutilated in the same way... I wanted to protect you. And I couldn't."

Tears were falling against his cheeks as he stood there, looking down at her wand, her left arm baring that _word_. The one he had spent his entire life throwing in her face. She opened her mouth to speak, to make some awful attempt at toughness while all she wanted to do was collapse in his arms, but he was still speaking, hurriedly, sweating on her wand.

"When you look at that, you remember all the ways you've been hurt. When I look at mine, I remember all the ways I've hurt others. I'm done hurting you Hermione. Everything you think I feel for you, all of this _disdain _you think I have, it's _wrong. _There is no Pureblood-Mudblood status anymore. I'm just _me._"

His words were aching with want for her, for understanding, for _some _kind of mercy.

_One last question. You just need to make it one more moment. _She told herself, her wand arm cramping, her heart bleeding for him.

"Then what _do _you feel for me, Draco?"

There it was, spoken aloud, for everyone she cared about to hear. Here she was, vulnerable, open, willing this stained man to heal her scars. Now he could either take her or leave her.

"I admire you, Hermione Granger. I always have." he whispered, his silver eyes resting on her brown ones in desperation.

If Hermione had thought punching Draco had felt brilliant, then kissing him felt absolutely genius. The sound of her wand hitting the floor was the only noise to break the tense air as she had closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his. Her arms had flung themselves around his shoulders as he fell into the door and gripped at her waist through her sweater. A hungry, drowning kiss, tasting of tears and _freedom. _It was the kiss he should have given her years ago, before any of the scars could be made.

Draco broke the kiss on a gentle sob, lifting her hand to face, and looking right into her eyes as he pressed his perfect lips to her imperfect skin, the ultimate apology, a vow to protect her, wholly, from then on out.

"Will you be mine, Hermione Granger?" he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

"As long as you will be mine." Together they laughed, and shared another slow, chaste kiss.

"That was much better than being punched," he said then, smiling, and kissing her hand once more, they both returned to their friends, and later that night, to Hermione's bed, where they warded off every future nightmare and quieted every scream for years to come.

* * *

**A/N: Well THAT got emotional. Sorry if the ending was a tad lack-luster, but I hope you guys loved it as much as I do. Please read and review! **

**-beautifulugly**


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